


Really Really Real for Me

by Daebakinc



Category: Kpop - Fandom, namjoon - Fandom, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 12:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15972410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daebakinc/pseuds/Daebakinc
Summary: Namjoon’s fascination with how you disrobe takes on a less than scholarly appeal.





	Really Really Real for Me

Coming home means stripping it all away. The demure demeanor that hides your quirks, the imperceptible dirt from the street that clings to your face, the professional clothes that keep everything restrictively in place.

The shedding of your work persona begins as soon as the door closes behind you. Your purse goes on a hook carved to look like a trailing vine. Just below is a sunflower yellow cubby where your practical heels go. Your jacket slumps over the back of the sky-blue suede couch on your way to the kitchen to boil water for indulgent Mexican hot chocolate.

As you twist the stove dial, the radio turns on right on time to play the soft cello duo you discovered last month. You lean against the counter with closed eyes, already imagining the last step of your ritual: a hot shower to scour away the day and pave the way for a full night’s relaxation. Work hasn’t been stressful, but a girl has to treat herself sometimes to get through the week.

When your ears catch the beginning whispers of the kettle’s whistle, you open the refrigerator door for the milk. Your smile widens. A pair of dragon fruit sits on the top shelf, cheery pink and green against white walls.

He remembered. You’d passingly mentioned your craving over the phone a few days ago, but you should have known. Namjoon always listens. He’s also notorious for spoiling you when he shouldn’t. However, the even more exciting thought is that he may be here. Sure enough, his sneakers are jumbled against the full shoe cubby when you glance back to the door. The ordinary sight sends your nerves into barely contained happy overdrive.

Hot chocolate can wait.

“Namjoon?” you call softly, turning off the stove and removing the kettle.

There’s no reply even when you call his name again as you quietly work your way to the back of your apartment. You peek through the cracked bedroom door and find a pair of bare feet on your bed, one boyishly dangling off the edge. As you push the door open, your eyes drink in each inch of Namjoon. Long legs in black track pants, faded green sweater with Ryan’s face half hidden by Namjoon’s arm, black beanie and glasses still perched in place. His fingers grip the book you left on the side table even though his head is deeply buried in your pillow.

You lean against the doorway before you completely melt. Just when you think Namjoon owns all of your heart, he finds some tiny piece to claim and send you head over heels in love with him all over again. It’s an addictive ride you plan on never getting off.

Namjoon’s forehead wrinkles with a faint frown and he rolls onto his back, somehow managing to keep his page.

Chuckling under your breath, you tiptoe over to the bed and carefully pry the book away.

Your boyfriend’s face turns towards you and his eyes open slowly as you slip a receipt from your last date between the pages to mark his place. “Babe?” he mumbles.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you whisper. Because you can never resist him, you lean down to brush your lips against his. The faintest returned pressure he gives slows your heart like sinking beneath a warm, gentle bath, a falling away of everything but that beautiful feeling of home and love.

“Did I fall asleep?” Namjoon asks, blinking his eyes.

Removing his glasses to fold and set them on top of the book, you nod. You note the dark circles beneath his eyes no longer hidden by makeup. It always breaks your heart when Namjoon pushes himself through countless nights spent working instead of sleeping. But his need to give the music within him life is his life, and you would never dream of asking him to step away from that. 

You kiss his forehead and murmur, “Try to sleep some more. I need to shower. We’ll talk when I get out, alright?”

“Okay.” The instant his eyes close, his mouth pops open with sleep’s deep breathing.

Still smiling to yourself, you head towards the bathroom. First to go: bra. You don’t even bother taking your shirt off, slipping your fingers beneath the fabric to efficiently unsnap the clasps. Your entire body sighs blissfully as you toss the bra in the hamper. Grabbing a long shirt and leggings from the open drawer beside the hamper, you quickly discard the rest of your clothes and close the door behind you.

 

When you finish drying your hair and step out the bathroom, the sight in front of you has you quirking an eyebrow. Namjoon sits on the edge of your bed with your bra in his hands. He slowly flips it this way and that, studying it.

“Thinking about wearing that?” you tease. “I wouldn’t recommend it. They’re not incredibly comfortable. Well, most aren’t.”

Namjoon chuckles without looking up. “I think I’ve cross-dressed enough for this lifetime, but thanks for the insight.”

“Then you’re holding it because…?”

“Rachel took it off the same way you did in the episode of Friends I watched last night, and I still can’t figure out how women can do it. Like, is it something you learn? Or is it instinct?”

“You watched me disrobe? You were supposed to be asleep.” Frowning playfully, you shake a finger at him. When you get close enough, you use it to tap under his chin. “It’s very naughty to spy on a lady, you know.”

Namjoon winks as he smiles up at you. “How could I sleep when there was already the sweetest dream in front of me? One with the sweetest ass too.”

“Cheeky,” you laugh.

You try to tug the bra away from him, but he holds on. Pushing it up, he says, “Show me.”

Skeptical, you ask, “You’re serious?”

When he nods again, you shrug. If there ever was a true student for life, it’s Namjoon. He probably wants to see if there’s some method he can use to get your clothes off faster next time or maybe he read a study on the history of the brassiere. Sometimes your boyfriend chooses the strangest things to be fascinated by. In this case, you can’t see the downside of indulging him.

Namjoon’s eyes dart from your chest to the skin of your torso exposed when you lift your shirt to slip the bra back on. A sliver of female satisfaction warms your body, but you have a job to do. You show him your hands, then slip them back under your shirt and have the bra dangling from your fingers in seconds.

“Voila,” you pronounce with a showman’s flourish. “Can we cuddle now?”

“One more time. Please,” he adds when you sigh.

One more time turns into two. On the third, you open your mouth to express an impatient quip, but bite your tongue. The erudite interest in Namjoon’s eyes is fading quickly. A deep-seated hunger smolders in them, slowly consuming. You become more aware of the thinness of your shirt, the way your breasts teasingly push against the clinging fabric. Smugly, you tuck away this new kink of his for future use.

He doesn’t tell you to take it off for a fourth time. Instead of going to your back to unhook your bra, your fingers leisurely curl around the hem of your shirt. Namjoon’s gaze falls to them, then back to your face. Your heart thumps at his obvious need, a need echoing the one growing in the pit of your stomach.

Deliberately, you hold his eyes as you pull the shirt off and let it drop to the floor. In two steps, you’re right in front of him. Namjoon starts to spread his legs for you to fit between, but you slip yourself onto his lap. Obligingly, he slides back onto the mattress, so you can straddle his hips more comfortably, his hands steady on your waist. 

“You really want to touch them, don’t you? Taste them?” you whisper, raising on your knees so your chest is right at Namjoon’s mouth, breasts plumped so nicely by the soft cotton and lace of the bra. His warm breath draws goosebumps across the thin skin.

He hums affirmatively. His thumbs stroke your skin just above your leggings as his eyes devour what he so badly wants. It’s a game he sometimes plays, seeing how long he can resist. This time, you’re betting the odds are stacked against him. All Namjoon needs is a tiny nudge.

Leaning forward, you wrap your lips around his earlobe and delicately bite down. His hands tighten on your hips. A shuddering sigh leaves his shoulders slumping into you.

You release his skin and lick it as you purr, “Make me feel good.”

“Oh, I plan on making you feel more than good,” comes his low reply.

His fingers fly to the clasp so fast you barely have time to feel your bra fall between you. Then his hands are on your breasts.

Your eyes close as a moan drips from your lips as Namjoon fingers brush against your already erect nipples. He palms the soft flesh, kneads it. One hand slides down to the small of your back to haul you against him as his mouth descends. As he sucks a nipple into his mouth, your back arches to give him more, your hands becoming vises on his shoulders to keep him there. Bliss slithers through your veins with his provocative licks and suckling, then mingles with bursts of delicious pain with his goading nips.

A whine builds in your throat as he gives your other nipple the same exacting care. The throb between your legs is intensifying. Yet Namjoon shows no signs of shifting his attention anywhere else on your body. His eyes are closed, the corner of his mouth turned slightly upward. He knows exactly what he’s doing and as much as the hardness beneath your core indicates you’re not the only one effected, he’s enjoying the exquisite torture.

“Namjoon,” you beg, unabashedly squirming against his hold to find some friction, some relief. But his hold allows only the briefest of movements nowhere near satisfying. 

“Hmm?” he hums. Namjoon swipes his tongue around your nipple one last time before lifting his head.

His lips are wet and glistening and his eyes are dark with desire and pride. Your skin tingles with the sudden neglect. You need more and if he’s set on teasing, you’ll take it for yourself.

You drag your hands along his shoulders to frame his face. Pushing your hips down and rolling them, you claim Namjoon’s mouth with yours. He emits rumbling groan raw with passion, one you swallow as your tongue searches for him. Ever able to read you, Namjoon matches thrust for thrust in time with his hands guiding your hips grinding against his. 

Namjoon tears his mouth away to mutter, “Hell with this,” and flips you onto your back. His nails scrap against your hips as they scramble at your leggings.

You lift your hips to help him peel them off with your panties and sit up to help him discard his own shirt. He gives you just a second to appreciate his newly exposed chest, lean and smooth, then he’s pushing you back onto the blankets with a hand anchored in your hair. Your mouth searches for his, eager for his taste.  
Instead, his lips brush against your temple, your eyelids, the corner of your mouth, before trailing to your neck.

“God, how do you smell so mouthwatering?” Namjoon breathes. His tongue lazily laps its way down your body as his fingers delicately stroke the nape of your neck. Tremors, ripples of thrill radiate from his touch.

“New body wash,” you hum. “Vanilla, almond, persimmon, and bourbon.”

“Mmm.” He catches a nipple between his teeth, chuckling lowly at your gasp. Releasing it, his mouth leaves a wet trail of open mouthed kisses down your skin to just below your navel. “Intoxicating, that’s exactly what you are.”

“Namjoon, please.” Your fingers go into his soft hair, pushing him towards where you want him most.

He smirks as he spreads your legs and obediently lowers himself closer to your core. “Already need my mouth on you, baby? I’m that good?”

“You know you are. Please, please.”

“I’ll take care of you, baby girl. Don’t you worry.” 

Namjoon nibbles at your inner thigh and snakes a hand up to your breast to gently massage it. With a sigh, you let your head fall back onto the pillow and relax your tensed muscles. Soft kisses across your thighs tickle and send more shivers throughout your body as it waits in anticipation.

When Namjoon’s finger delves between your folds instead of his tongue, you shoot up. “Namjoon, why-” The rest of your words break off into a muffled whimper as his lips recaptures yours in a deep kiss and his thumb presses on your clit.

He is merciless, denying you breath and respite. You grow slicker with each of his sensual touches and caresses. Like an expert mechanic, he winds the coil in the pit of your stomach tighter and tighter without springing it. More moans and cries tumble from your mouth to Namjoon’s as your hips rut against his hand.

You bring a leg up, in vainly trying to relieve some of the pressure, causing him to grunt when your knee bumps the bulge in his pants.

He releases your mouth with a shaking breath, but his eyes are all dark heat when you meet them. “That’s it, my pretty girl,” he praises. “Do you know why I love driving you crazy like this?”

You shake your head desperately, fingers digging into the soft blanket beneath you.

Gently kissing your mouth again while holding your gaze and keeping his hand’s ruthless rhythm, he says, “Because, I’m the only who gets to see what you’re really like. I’m the only one who can break down that prim exterior and expose this gorgeous, passionate creature you are. The side you hide from the rest of the world, one so ravenous I can have you writhing beneath me and begging with just my fingers.” He slips a finger inside you, tauntingly curling it. “You are going to beg for me, aren’t you, sugar?”

“Yes. God, yes, Namjoon, please” you pant. Tears trickle from the corner of your eyes. You feel swollen and feverish and dizzy. “Please, I just want to cum. I want to cum for you.”

“Ah, how can I ever deny you anything.” Namjoon kisses you again, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth for a sweet eternity.

Then he’s gone, the dull sound of his pants and underwear hitting the floor loud in your ears. Your fingers creep down your body to twirl around your aching nub. You can’t let that glorious fire die, not when you’re so close.

Above the wrinkling foil of a condom wrapper, you hear Namjoon’s quiet warning. “You better not be having fun without me.”

With a sigh that borders on a whine, you let your hand fall away. Regrets of your fading high vanish when Namjoon returns to you. His body is warm and heavy as it presses against you. Finally. You’re so close to what you wanted.

Your legs hook around his hips, your heels pushing against his back to urge him even closer. He braces himself over you on his forearms and for a moment, in the gilded afternoon light, it hits you.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur. Your finger traces his face from his hairline down to his chin.

Namjoon’s eyes widen before they crinkle with his smile, part of his lower lip caught between his teeth. You love when your compliments catch him off guard. That second of vulnerability only you get to witness.

But you don’t have time to dwell on such things as Namjoon’s still smiling mouth swoops down on yours to reignite your fever of desire. He enters you with a single, swift thrust. The pleasure is instant and intense. Your body arches into him, welcoming all of him. It takes over in its craving for carnal ecstasy. 

Hips roll, hands search, lips drink. Patient savoring slowly gives way to frantic devour with every pant, every low groan. Your nails score half-moon marks into Namjoon’s back as you whisper age-old encouragements in his ear between kisses. He pumps in and out of you faster and faster, moaning in response to your sweet, choked cry when he hits that spot. The one that sends a thick jolt of pure pleasure through your veins.

“There,” you plead. “Right there.”

Namjoon draws away from your lips and sits up, hauling your ankles over his shoulders. One of his hands slides beneath your hip to steady it as he finds that perfect angle again. The other pushes between your folds and his thumb presses down on the ultra-sensitive flesh. You ascend to a new level, one so high you’re not sure there is higher.

His growls echo your moans. Namjoon’s hips smack against your body faster and harder as he sprints headlong towards the growing wave that looms over you both. Your feverish body rocks back and forth on the blankets, too far gone in the madness to even help.

A curse and a prayer tumble from his swollen lips a second before you feel his entire body shudder with his release. Your own teeters just in front of you. But Namjoon knows your body as well as his own. Thrusting through his own ecstasy, with one deep plunge, one twist of his clever fingers, he brings your climax flooding over you. Trembling, you cling to his arms and surrender every sense to the waves of decadent warmth.

“I swear,” Namjoon breathes, leaning down to scatter kisses across your face as he rocks into you, prolonging mutual bliss, “there are days I want to make a track of nothing but your moans. They’re the sexiest thing I’ll ever hear.”

You tip your head for a quiet, lingering kiss. “It better be for your ears only.”

He pulls away to stare down at you. “Are you serious? Can I really?”

Silencing him with another kiss, you break it to kiss his nose. “We’ll see, but you’ll have to be a very, very good boy.”

“Or I could bribe you. I know all your weaknesses.” Namjoon laughs, then kisses your nose back. 

He finally withdraws to crawl from between your legs. You roll onto your side and wrap your arms around his waist as he drops the condom into the trashcan. The way the muscles on his back twitch beneath your peppering kisses makes you smile.

“I don’t want to get dressed again,” you admit.

“Then don’t. This is my favorite suit on you anyway.”

Giggling, you lay another kiss on the nape of his neck as he lies down. He responds by reaching behind him to give an affectionate pat to your bottom.

You let him go long enough for him to wrap an arm around your shoulder. Snuggling into his chest, you ask, “Want to nap or pick up where we left off the other night?”

His fingers curl a lock of your hair as he thinks it over before giving the answer you knew he would. “Read.”

Feeling behind you, you find the smooth cover of the book you’d started reading together last Saturday. You plop it on Namjoon’s tummy. “Your turn.”

“Alright.” After you plump the pillows behind him and pull the blankets around you, he bestows a light kiss on your forehead.

You settle in, eyes on the text as Namjoon begins reading. With his voice in your ear and his skin warm against yours, this your true bliss.


End file.
